<br/><br/><br/><p align="center"><big><SPAN name="2">CHAPTER II</SPAN></big>
<br/>MOTHER AND CHILD</p>
<p>The child crept softly to her mother's bedside, but once there she
impulsively threw her arms about "Mamma Tone's" neck and embraced her
so tightly that the sick woman was obliged to tear the little arms
away. She did this tenderly, though, and holding the trembling hands in
her own kissed both of Lory's cheeks before she said:</p>
<p>"I've news for you, dear."</p>
<p>"Are you better, mamma?" asked Lory.</p>
<p>"Of course not," was the calm reply. "You mustn't expect mamma ever
to get well, my darling. But that shouldn't worry you—not too
much, you know. One of the queer things about life is that it has an
end, sooner or later, and in mamma's case it comes to an end a little
sooner than you and I might wish it to."</p>
<p>"Oh, Mamma Tone!" An agonized cry, with the small hands clasped
tightly over her throbbing heart. But Tony Seaver did not flinch.</p>
<p>"The news I have will surprise you, Lory dear. Your father, who
loved you devotedly when you were a baby, but whom you have never known
till now, is coming here to see us."</p>
<p>Alora's eyes grew big with wonder, but other thoughts drove even
this strange news from her mind.</p>
<p>"I can't let you go, Mamma Tone," she wailed, sobbing; "I can't let
you die and leave me all alone!"</p>
<p>The woman's breast heaved. She was silent a moment and then said
quietly:</p>
<p>"Even kings and queens, sweetheart, have no command over life and
death. When it is too late to help it, we realize we have been born;
when it is too late to help it, we realize we must die. But why
complain, when it is the fate of all humanity? To be true to our
Creator, who directs all things, we must bow to His will without
protest. You will love your father, Lory, because he will love you; and
he is a good man, and kindly, so I believe he will make your life as
happy as I could have done."</p>
<p>"I don't want him; I want <i>you,</i> Mamma—I want
<i>you!"</i></p>
<p>The mother sighed wearily and the alert nurse advanced and said to
the child in grave, cold tones:</p>
<p>"You must control yourself, Miss Alora, if you wish to remain."</p>
<p>The threat quieted the little girl at once.</p>
<p>"I'll be good, Mamma Tone," she whispered softly. "Talk to me, and
tell me what I must do."</p>
<p>So the dying woman talked to her, not of herself, but of Alora's
father, and of how she would like her child to conduct herself while
she grew in womanhood. She spoke of her will, and told Lory what it
meant to her and how she had safe-guarded her interests as well as she
was able. To this Lory listened intently and, although she still
trembled at times, she had Tony Seaver's blood in her veins and could
be brave in spite of the terrors that faced her. Dimly she realized
that her mother was suffering through the knowledge of their inevitable
parting, even as Alora was suffering, and felt she could comfort that
beloved mother more by controlling her grief bravely than by giving way
to it in her mother's presence.</p>
<p>Meantime, Dr. Anstruther had returned to his office and had written
and dispatched the following telegram:</p>
<p class="letter">"Jason Jones,<br/><span class="indent1">1744 East 67th
St.,</span><br/><span class="indent2">New York City.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="indent1">"Your</span> wife is dying at the Hotel Voltaire
and wishes reconciliation before she passes away. Come quickly, as any
delay may prove dangerous. Notify me by wire when to expect
you.<br/><span class="indent3">Edward Anstruther, M. D."</span></p>
<p>He left orders that the answer be delivered to him at his office or
residence, as soon as received, but the day and the night passed
without a word from Jason Jones. Dr. Anstruther telephoned the
telegraph office and was assured his message had been delivered to the
party in New York, as otherwise they would be notified to that
effect.</p>
<p>Knowing Mrs. Jones' dangerous condition, the good doctor was
worried, but the following morning brought the delayed answer:</p>
<p>"If necessary for me to come, you must send money for expenses."</p>
<p>It was signed "Jason Jones" and its tone and its demand annoyed Dr.
Anstruther exceedingly.</p>
<p>"Confound the fellow!" he exclaimed. "Any decent man would have
borrowed the money, or even pawned his watch and jewelry, to get to a
dying wife who calls for him. Either Mrs. Jones is mistaken in her
husband's kindly character or—well, he may have changed since
last she knew him."</p>
<p>He did not hesitate, however, to go to the office and send money by
telegraph to Jason Jones, furnishing the required sum from his own
pocket rather than allow Antoinette to see her husband's telegram. He
even sent more than was necessary, muttering to himself: "The poor
devil may have some bills to settle before he can get away, and in any
event she must not be disappointed because her impecunious husband
lacks a few dollars. I fancy the poor artist will be amazed to find
himself suddenly raised from poverty to affluence, for little Lory's
income will be enormous and he will have seven years, at least, to
enjoy it unrestrained. I hope," he added thoughtfully, as he drove back
to his office, "that Mrs. Jones has made no error in her judgment of
this man, for it is considerable power to place in anyone's hands and
Alora is such a dear that I want her properly taken care of."</p>
<p>When he made his next visit to his patient he said in answer to her
questioning look:</p>
<p>"Mr. Jones will be here to-morrow, I think. He will notify me of his
arrival and I will be here to meet him. I believe it will be advisable
for me to see him first, you know, in order
to—eh—eh—to post him a bit," he added, meaningly.</p>
<p>"Yes," she replied, "I fear it will be something of a shock to
Jason. Even though we have practically been strangers for years, he is
sure to be grieved and sympathetic. But do not bore him with
particulars, Doctor. Send him to me as soon as you have prepared him
for the interview."</p>
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